


Sweat it out

by snogboxandahalf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: HAHAHAHA it's my first time writing a 5+1 so sorry, M/M, it's like implied sex, workouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6064125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snogboxandahalf/pseuds/snogboxandahalf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>aka the five times where Stiles watched Derek working out and the one time Derek watched Stiles</p><p>--------</p><p>There are mentions of sex? Like, small mentions? But there's strong language and stuff so just fyi. Also a hypothetical pornstar!Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweat it out

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned in summary, pornstar derek comes to life for a second. It's just. I'm happy.
> 
> also this is probs shitty so ye sorry about it

1.

 

Stiles never realized working out could be so sexual. That is, until he walks in on Derek doing pull-ups, shirtless, and glistening with sweat. His muscles are bulging and Stiles can see the triskelion tattoo shifting with every breath. It’s really not fair. 

It gets worse, like, really worse, when Derek drops from the bar and turns around to greet Stiles like a human being. A human being with really toned abs. 

“What do you want?” Derek asks, not unkindly, tugging a towel off a nearby table and beginning to towel off his chest. 

“Uh…I…need…” Stiles trails off, staring at the dark trail of hair leading underneath Derek’s exercise shorts. When Stiles flicks his gaze back up to Derek’s face, Derek is raising a customary eyebrow and smirking like he knows _just_ what he’s doing to Stiles. Which, let’s face it, he probably does. Stiles feels his cheeks heat up and he involuntarily walks closer to Derek. “I need those books? For that thing? The thing that we’re researching? You know, the thing?” Stiles clears his throat and determinedly looks anywhere but Derek’s still-glistening abs. 

“You mean the demon? Yeah, sure, they’re through here.” Derek grabs a tank top off a chair and tugs it on before walking to his (surprisingly extensive) library. Stiles lets out a nearly inaudible sigh at the loss of Derek’s torso, but follows him anyway.

The way that Derek reaches up to lift down books is no less obscene than his workout, however, and by the time Stiles is ready to go he’s got not only four enormous books but also one average-sized boner. Life really isn’t fair. 

 

2.

 

Derek has got to be doing it on purpose, Stiles thinks. It’s like he _knows_ that Stiles is a perpetually horny teenager with an attraction to naked, sweaty male torsos. Or maybe it’s just his workout attire, as Scott suggests. Either way, training is complete torture for Stiles because he’s the one with the timer and coincidentally gets to watch Derek running through the woods for twenty minutes three times a week. And he always does it shirtless, too. 

“Jesus, don’t you ever get cold?” Stiles asks one brisk November night when Derek is hunched over at the finish line, breathing heavily. 

“You know that werewolves run hot, right?” Derek says, standing up. 

“Well yeah, but you’re all shirtless and stuff, doesn’t it ever feel a _little_ cold?” 

“Why, you want me to put on a shirt?” Derek asks with a grin, his breathing now steady, which is not only unfair but also surprisingly sexy. Stiles shakes his head quickly, because as much as he doesn’t want Derek to catch pneumonia and die, he really enjoys the view. “I thought not.” Derek smirks at Stiles, suddenly a lot closer than he was before, barely six inches between them. 

Stiles leans forward into what he’s sure is going to be a kiss, but Derek pulls away at the last second, setting off into a sprint into the woods again, and Stiles curses him out as he resets the timer. 

He’s definitely doing it on purpose. 

 

3.

This time he’s blasting music, so it makes sense that he didn’t hear Stiles come in. What doesn’t make sense, however, is that Derek is working out in jeans. He’s naked from the waist up, attacking a punching bag with full force. From the waist down he’s clad in jeans and…combat boots? What the fuck?

“Dude, I didn’t realize you worked out in, like, the most impractical clothes ever.” Stiles says, his eyebrow raised. 

Derek pauses his music before pulling a towel off the nearby rack and tossing it over his shoulders. “Two things. One, don’t call me ‘dude’. Two, it’s better for real-life situations. I’m not just going to _be_ in my exercise clothes when something comes my way. It’s better to be prepared.” Derek says, tugging off his gloves. 

“Ahh, I see. Well, I just came to say that I finally figured out what the unicorn is doing here and how to safely get rid of it. Also, your neighbors must really hate you man, that music is _so_ loud.” 

“My neighbors _can’t_ hate me, I own the building.” Derek begins rubbing away the sweat glistening on his skin, and Stiles can’t decide if he’s trying to give him the fastest boner of his life or not. 

“So you don’t care about the unicorn?” Stiles says, pointedly looking at the piece of paper he brought.

“Depends, do you care?” Once again, Derek is incredibly close to Stiles, and Stiles mentally runs through every curse word he knows. 

“Well, I mean, it mainly comes after virgi–mmmph!” Stiles is cut off by Derek’s lips abruptly landing on his own. Within seconds, he closes his eyes and melts into the kiss as his hands grasp at Derek’s bare torso and he thinks that he might not be a virgin for much longer. 

 

4. 

 

This time Stiles knows it’s intentional. He knows it’s intentional when Derek comes out of the pool drenched in water and looking like a fucking _god_. His bathing suit is one of the ones the professionals wear, and it clings to his thighs in a way that can _not_ be legal. Like, even a little. 

Water droplets run off his torso as he makes his way over to Stiles, who’s hovering on the sidelines of the public pool. He’d been watching Derek swim laps for the last hour (read: catching up on his AP Physics C homework next to the pool) and Derek couldn’t help but tease him a little bit. 

“So, babe, how was I?” Derek smirks, running a hand through his hair. 

“You were great honey. Now how about you put some clothes on before someone reports you for basically creating amateur porn, hmm?” Stiles says, hardly looking up from his textbook. 

“Amateur porn, really? I think I could at least go pro.” Derek says, and Stiles snaps his head up. 

“Derek Hale. If you’ve done porn and you didn’t tell me I will never forgive you. Like, ever.” Stiles says, earning a laugh from his boyfriend. 

“I haven’t done porn…yet.” Derek says, laughing again when Stiles slaps at his arm. 

“Don’t even joke. I would watch that like, so much.” Stiles says, and Derek raises an eyebrow before turning around and heading to the changing rooms. 

When he gets back, Stiles hands him a list of porn star names that starts with “Drilling Derek,” and he seriously regrets ever bringing up the word “porn.”

 

5.

 

It was actually unintentional this time. Stiles is sure of it, because he meant to surprise Derek with a six-month anniversary gift. He’d gotten a spare key to Derek’s place from Erica (with much threatening) and he intended to go the whole nine yards with flower petals and candles and everything. He’d picked a time when he was sure Derek was out of the house because he needed time to set everything up, but clearly Derek _wasn’t_ out of the house because he was in the middle of the living room, lifting weights. 

“What the actual fuck.” Stiles says, letting the spare key drop to the ground. Derek turns at the sound of Stiles’s voice, carefully putting his weights on the rack before slowly sitting up. 

“Stiles, what are you doing here?” Derek asks, more bewildered than anything. 

“I…what are you doing here?!” Stiles shoots back, and admittedly it’s not his best. 

“I live here. What’s your excuse?”

“Ugh, fine, I borrowed your spare from Erica so I could get in and set up for the anniversary. I wanted it to be special!” Stiles admits, a little upset that the surprise was ruined. Derek chuckles and pulls on a nearby tank top. 

“Stiles, I hate to tell you this, but you’ve got your timeline off. Our anniversary is next week.” Derek says, standing up and walking over to Stiles.

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me?” Stiles says, dropping his bag to the floor. “I was gonna do all this cute, romantic shit for you! There were going to be rose petals! Rose petals, Derek! And I fucked it all up just because I can’t keep my dates straight. Ugh, I’m so sorry babe.” Stiles shakes his head and lets himself be pulled into Derek’s embrace. 

“It’s okay Stiles. I do dumb shit like that all the time, I’m just good at covering it up. Besides, our anniversary is in the middle of your finals. I can’t fault you for forgetting.” Derek says, running a hand up and down his boyfriend’s back. 

“Thanks Der. I’m just…stressed, I guess.” 

Instead of rose petals, that anniversary they get a new tradition of celebrating a week early and Stiles gets a really good neck massage. 

 

+1.

 

Derek was supposed to wait in the car. He’d driven Stiles to school that morning because the jeep is in the shop, so Stiles is relying on him to get home. Unfortunately for Derek, that meant waiting in the car while Stiles finished up lacrosse practice. And unfortunately for Stiles, Derek is incredibly impatient. It was an unfortunate situation, really. 

Derek settled into the stands just as the team began doing suicides, and he could immediately pick out Stiles from the crowd. He sees the exact moment Stiles notices him and sends a little wave his way, only to watch Stiles trip over his own feet and wipe out. 

Derek winces in sympathy and he can swear he hears a muttered “fuck you, Derek,” coming from Stiles before he stands up and dusts himself off, starting to run again. 

Eventually the team moves on to a practice game, and Stiles ends up on the skins team. He strips off his tank top in one absolutely _filthy_ movement that leaves Derek hungry for more before he grabs his lacrosse stick again and gets back on the field. 

Derek hardly remembers lacrosse from back when he was in school, having been more of a basketball kid himself. Still, he thought it would be less…violent. Even though it’s just practice, more than one kid has already fallen to the ground and Derek watched Scott take a nasty lacrosse stick to the gut. When Coach finally calls time, the team is all exhausted, but Derek can hardly keep from running onto the field and fucking Stiles right there. 

His surprisingly toned chest is heaving and his cheeks are flushed red. His mouth is doing _obscene_ things to that water bottle as he grabs his gear and heads into the locker rooms along with the rest of the guys. 

If they stop on the way to Derek’s for a remote roadside fuck, no one really needs to know. 

**Author's Note:**

> fake-taylorswift.tumblr.com
> 
> OR
> 
> fxckingsterek.tumblr.com


End file.
